The Perils of Modern Medicine
by caldera32
Summary: Merlin suffers under the care of another physician whilst away from Camelot. (Rated for whump)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: New story! Yay! :D I'm actually not sure how often I'll update this as I've signed up for a Big Bang sort of thing, but my brain wouldn't even let me start on that one until I'd written this. I have a feeling this one will take precedent over my "Chronicles of Camelot" piece since it involves more yummy research, but we shall see. For now, enjoy!

I dedicate this one to LFB72 because I love her to bits :)  
Go and check out her latest story; read and review! s/9991946/1/In-Deep-and-Out-of-Control

* * *

Lord Faltare and his household leaned in, staring with wrapt attention as the Court Warlock, oblivious to the eyes upon him, took his first drink from the goblet in front of him. They grinned gleefully as he tried to suppress his grimace with a smile.

"This certainly is an... _interesting_ vintage, Lord Faltare."

The middle-aged man laughed heartily.

"It is at that! Most guests find it completely undrinkable!" He laughed again, as it seemed he frequently did. "It's made with betony- some ancestor of ours thought it prevented drunkenness and our family wine has included it ever since!"

"Betony?" The warlock inquired. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite call it to mind.

"Tallish plant, purple flowers; some call it 'bishopwort'."

"Hm," something niggled at his memory but he still couldn't quite grasp it.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of it- most physicians use it to treat all manner of things; gout, arthritis, stomach woes, migram... it's even said it prevents bad dreams!"

"Well, I can see why you're all in such good health then!" Merlin grinned more genuinely before braving another swig of the bitter drink.

"For that I have my own physician and his assistants to thank- they are at the forefront of medical advancement. Gaius might even be able to learn a thing or two from them!"

The physician's ward smiled indulgently when the man began to chuckle more, grasping his middle as he chortled. He had met the aforementioned men when he stopped by the infirmary to pick up a simple tonic for the cold he'd developed on the way there (which was Arthur's fault for taking so long to allow Merlin to travel without half an army that he wound up riding during the rainy season). The place had been a mess of star maps and bizarre instruments that looked like they belonged in a torture chamber. When he had asked after a few herbs the trio had had no idea what he spoke of and offered to 'balance his humours' instead. Merlin had no idea what that meant but, seeing the sharp tool in the physician's hand, thought it better to decline.

He had developed a slight fever since then, but certainly wasn't going to return there unless he were dying.

A tickle in his throat threatened to provoke a bout of coughing so he took another mouthful of the dubious beverage, this time completely containing his wince. The way his stomach roiled, provoking his magic to the same, made him glad he had obtained some mint earlier. Perhaps he'd be able to find some thyme for tea to help him get to bed as well as soothe his throat.

The coughs came anyway, leaving him bent over the table and struggling for breath.

"My Lord?"

The former servant groaned internally at the title. Arthur had been entirely too satisfied with himself when he'd ennobled his best friend, grinning smugly whenever someone addressed him respectfully.

"Just 'Merlin', please. I'm alright, just a tickle," he waved away the maid that had stepped forward to assist him and sat up. The room spun a bit and he blinked in surprise. Surely his fever wasn't that high?

"Lord Merlin?"

He blinked again. How had Faltare gotten in front of him so quickly- and what was he so concerned about? The man's lips were moving under that generous mustache, but the warlock heard no sounds. _What is going on?_

Another blink and the lord's brawny hands were now grasping his shoulders. Merlin had a suspicion they may be the only reason he wasn't lying atop his supper.  
_What-_ His magic gave a sickening lurch and his dimming vision tunneled before he lost consciousness completely.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I apologize in advance to the purists. I've unearthed too much fun stuff; I won't stick to things that would have been in England at the supposed time of Arthur. I will also be taking liberties with the things I _do_ use as, though I do love research, I am not an astrologist and all the calculations involved with what I'll be incorporating are just dizzying.

I also forgot that you can no longer copy posted text so, in case you didn't notice, the story title from last chapter's note is "In Deep and Out of Control" (It's great; read it!)

* * *

"You know I can take care of myself. It's probably actually _safer_ if I go alone."

"Merlin, the Faltare family is infamous for its hatred of sorcery. You can't expect me to just let you go there because of some letter claiming they want to learn more about the new laws-"

"They are known for their _past_ hatred of sorcery. The current lord was one of the first to agree to release the ban; you know that! We've been going back and forth on this for weeks- any longer and they'll take offense. Why won't you see sense?"

Arthur halted his pacing, staring his Court Warlock in the face. Yes, he had given Merlin power- above all but himself and Guinevere- so he could act without the king there to back him up at all times; but he had never intended to send the man out on his own. "I won't risk your safety based on appearances. What if it was all a ploy?" His eyes grew a bit desperate. "I can't lose you, Merlin. I thought you finally understood that I- I _care_ for you."

The former servant softened, reaching forward to clasp his master's shoulder.  
"Alright- but I'll only take a few. It's going to be slow enough as it is now that the plains are little more than a giant bog; no need to drag along half the castle."

The king was clearly still hesitant, but nodded his assent.  
"I'm sorry I can't give you any of the round table- they're all out checking after the Saxons."

If Merlin hadn't known that to be true he would've suspected Arthur of giving him newer recruits as revenge for losing the argument. Those who hadn't known him as a servant were always over-awed and painfully humble in his presence. "I suppose I'll have to forgive you this once."

"Of course you do; I'm the king!" Arthur inflated his chest, adopting his old 'prat' tone.

"I'll keep in touch," The warlock promised, smiling faintly as he slipped from the room.

* * *

"He should've written by now," the blond stated for the fourth time that evening, wearing a trench in the floor as he strode back and forth. Cold air and rain blew in through the open window, waiting for the owl Merlin had taken to using as a message-carrier.

"He only just arrived yesterday, Arthur. Did you really expect two letters in as many days? Come eat your dinner," the queen cajoled her husband, patting the chair invitingly.

Arthur shook his head. "Something's not right; I can _feel_ it."

"Are you getting 'funny feelings' now too?" Gwen joked to cover up her own unease. She had noticed the bond between her spouse and her best friend, and if _Arthur_ was 'feeling' something...

"There's nothing you can do in this storm. Now sit and enjoy your meal."

The monarch collapsed in his chair with an explosive sigh, pushing his food around briefly before rising to his feet once more.  
"I'm going to bed," he announced, stripping off his day wear and climbing under the covers wearing nothing but his small-clothes.

Guinevere also sighed, calling a servant in to remove the dishes before putting out most of the candles and kissing her husband's forehead, readying herself for sleep.

* * *

Arthur sat up in bed, cold sweat making the sheets stick to him before he flung them off.

"What's the matter?" His wife croaked, not fully awake.

"Merlin," was the clipped response as he attempted to work a shirt down over his shoulders whilst pulling up a pair of trousers.

Guinevere also sat up, "Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?"

"He was calling me- he needs my help."

"Arthur, it's still dark-"

"But it will be light by the time the men have woken and prepared. He's a week's ride away, Guinevere; I can't wait."

The queen nodded, traversing the room to hold her husband tightly.  
"Be careful; make sure you both come home safe and sound."

"Of course," he kissed her, breathing in her calming scent for a few moments before breaking away.  
"Help me with this?" A breastplate dangled from his fingers and she slipped it over his gambeson.

"Always."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Had this ready earlier but couldn't post -_-  
Now I'm thinking this one may actually be done fairly quickly... I don't know, this story is just doing whatever the heck it wants.  
Anyway- on with the torment!

* * *

The world was coming through in vague flashes, first in the sensation of movement and then the incomprehensible and entirely-too-loud noises around him. He attempted to protest and was rewarded with cool air entering the furnace his mouth had become, but no sound was produced. The world had just stopped swaying when he faded out once more.

The disgusting feeling of something cold and slimy being placed on his temples brought him around some indeterminate amount of time later. He only managed to open his eyes a crack, seeing blurry faces crowded 'round. He wanted to push them aside or at least tell them to get rid of whatever was on his head, but once again he had only enough strength to gaze at them for a moment before returning to the dark.

The third time he woke the voices all began shouting at once, hands appearing and forcing more of the betony wine down his throat- the taste thankfully weakened by the coating on his tongue. Something in him revolted at the liquid's presence, but was quickly silenced once he swallowed. The voices were asking him a question but he must not be hearing it correctly. Why would they want to know when he was born? Nevertheless, he did his best to answer, using up the remainder of his energy.

His next venture into the realm of wakefulness was entirely involuntary. Rings of fire and a bizarre feeling of suction erupted across his back. His beleaguered mind could think of no explanation for this aside from some giant leech-creature and he struggled weakly at the idea. Pressure appeared along his arms and legs, holding him in place as the heat continued until the suction released. Sharp pain originated from the newly-sensitive circles of flesh and he twitched, a whimper being all the comment he could muster. The pain was followed by others, as if someone were making regular slices all across his back. Then the heat returned. He strove against the restraint but lost hold when a noisome cloth covered his nose and mouth.

More wine. He had been feeling relatively alert for the brief moment he had been awake before one of the physician's assistants noticed him staring at the ceiling and promptly forced more of that offensive beverage upon him. Someone loomed above- Balinor, or was it Will?- and insisted he go back to sleep.

There were a few more moments of awareness, but they were all confusing and filled with the administration of wine and leeches. At one point there had been a lot of noise- a confrontation of some sort- and after that things were a bit calmer; but now something new was happening. Cold air assaulted him from all directions, making him notice for the first time that his clothes had been removed, and he was being lifted into the air.

"Wha-?" He began, more wine appearing to ease his dry throat.

"It's alright, Merlin, I'm here."

He turned his head to the side, causing it to flop about uncomfortably.  
"Arthur?"

The blond smiled from where he stood next to a large tub.  
"Just relax, everything is fine."

"Alright," he murmured, shivering as they propped him up against the cool metal.  
The warlock was so focused on his king he didn't notice the physician approaching with a knife.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, so I was wrong (as per usual). Answers will start coming _next_ chapter. I apologize.  
(But at least Arthur arrived- that's good, right?)

* * *

Arthur charged through the infirmary door, shoving Lord Faltare aside in his haste. The sight before him stopped the king cold.

Merlin, naked as the day he was born and unnaturally white, was slumped bonelessly in a metal tub while three suspicious men loomed over him. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air and an ominous dripping sound came from inside the bath.

"Hey there, Arthur," the warlock's voice was light and airy as he smiled like a drunk. "How'du ge-dover there?" His eyes turned to the side, "Oh look, there's two of you. Hav'you got magic now, dollophead?" He giggled a bit hysterically as the blond crossed the room in a blink.

"What've you done to him?" The monarch snarled, then saw the red rivers flowing down his friend's calves. "Gaius!"

He was so glad he'd brought the old man with him. As it turned out the muck necessitated a slow enough pace that the elder hadn't hindered them in the least. He was, however, a bit behind in navigating the castle's steps.

"Here, Sire," Gaius panted, grasping the door frame briefly before stumbling over to his ward.

"Gaius!" Merlin crowed, "I feel sooooooo great righ' now." As soon as he had said this his eyes rolled up into his head, which fell back against the tub with a metallic clang.

The attending physician and his two assistants looked sour about being interrupted but had been cowed into silence by the fierce protectiveness radiating from the intruders. Now, however, they attempted to resume their ministrations.

"Move aside while we continue treatment..." Arthur glared and the man's tone quickly turned from supercilious to simpering, "please, My Lords?"

The blond stood, fists clenched as he got dangerously close to the other man. "You call _this_... this.. _torture_ treatment? I-"

"Sire, we haven't the time for this now. Merlin needs aid."

Looking as if it physically pained him to do so, Arthur turned from the three now huddled against the wall and back to his best friend.

"What can I do, Gaius?"

"Get him out of the tub. I need to see if these _charlatans _have anything of use in their supplies. I hadn't anticipated such a lack of preparation or would have brought more of my own herbs," he finished worriedly, rheumy eyes combing over the limited stock of plants drying by the hearth. "Do you not even have yarrow?" He inquired angrily, causing the trio to press themselves even further back.

Realizing he was being belittled in his own domain the physician-in-residence straightened his robes and stood a bit taller, looking down his nose at the man pawing through his workroom.

"We practice only the height of scientific medicine here. No senile _hedge-doctor_ is going to preach to me! We need only consult the stars and balance the humours to treat any ill- not your superstitious plants and rituals!"

Giving up the herb-stores as a loss and grabbing a roll of bandages, Gaius rounded on the man, "You call _this_ science? Humorism is absurd enough as it is, but you don't even follow it properly! You-" he pointed to one of the wide-eyed aides, "go down to the kitchen and get as much honey as you can- see if they have any cinnamon while you're at it! You-" the other apprentice actually flinched as the bony hand stabbed the air in his direction, "help King Arthur get my ward onto the bed."

While he didn't want any of these brutes near his servant, Arthur found himself grateful for another pair of hands. The back of Merlin's knees had been slit and he could not safely maneuver the slight body up and over the vessel walls. Once his former servant's back came into view- covered in cuts and reddish circular bruises- he had to grind his teeth to contain further raging. It mostly worked.

"_What is your name?_" The cold fury in his tone had the 'physician' cowering once more.

Lord Faltare deemed this an appropriate time to step forward- perhaps because the king's hands were occupied.

"My Lord, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding! Holbert has always kept my household in excellent health- he has been nothing but attentive to Lord Merlin!"

Blue eyes glinted dangerously. "I'll thank you to stay in your rooms until this has all been sorted- my knights will escort you."

Faltare wilted, nodding meekly as he exited the chambers.

"Holbert," Arthur paused to settle Merlin on the cot, holding up one leg at a time so Gaius could treat the wounds there. "You will explain _exactly_ what you have done and what happened to warrant such _treatment_ of my Court Warlock."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So... no real answers this chapter... *ducks flying objects* Maybe not next time either *runs from pitchforks*  
But 6 will be Arthur-centric! That's good, right? ...Right? *continues running*

* * *

Holbert sniffed, bristling at the implication that he had done anything wrong; but another glimpse of the king's steely eyes reduced his tone to mere defensiveness.

"About a week past- the day after Lord Merlin arrived- there was a feast in his honor. Not long after it started he was assailed by a terrible coughing fit. He claimed he was well, but fell unconscious a short time later."

"Poison?" Cold spread throughout Arthur's body as if a bucket of water had been overturned on his head. Visions of a younger Merlin collapsing on a stone floor invaded his mind. He forcibly brought his attention back to the hunched figure in front of him.

"We checked his food and drink most thoroughly, Your Highness. No poison was found. We believe it to simply be a worsening of the illness he had upon arrival."

"And what illness would that be?" Gaius challenged, securing the bandages around his ward's knees and elevating the legs with a bundle of linens before moving to begin his own examination, never once looking at the other physician.

"H-he didn't say- simply came here shortly after arriving, looking for some herbs."

"_Which_ herbs?" The elder pressed, peeling back his boy's eyelids to inspect the hazy orbs beneath.

"Ah... elderberry... and parsley?"

Gaius frowned at the man's uncertainty, eyebrow rising threateningly.

Holbert straightened, "Yes, that was it- and garlic as well."

"A simple cold then," Gaius stated, turning back to his patient and grimacing at the thick white coating on the young man's tongue. "Do you still have the food and drink from the feast? And the vessels?"

"The- the vessels?" Holbert squeaked.

"Don't tell me you didn't even check the cup or plate for toxins?"

"N-no... but it was all tasted before being presented!"

"Fools!" The elder growled, pausing to steady his breathing as he rechecked Merlin's pulse. Still fast and weak. Where was that assistant with the honey?

"You-" he shouted at the other assistant once more, startling the youth into upsetting the bowl he was using to wash his hands, "run to the kitchens and fetch garlic, wild parsley, and elderberry if they have it. Also ask after some sweet marjoram- and honey if you don't see that other simpleton on your way!"

The young man nodded and dashed out as if a demon were chasing him- which was understandable; Arthur had never seen the man so fearsome.

Gaius pulled a bundle of dried leaves from his limited kit, smoke pouring from it as an incantation slipped from aged lips. Merlin's pale body twitched and a slight whimper escaped, but no further reaction occurred. Gaius cursed softly, trying again with more force. He had been using his magic more since the ban had been lifted, but it was still weak from age and disuse. After two more attempts produced no results he was forced to stop, exhausted.

"Gaius?" The king inquired, voice slightly higher than usual.

"He's bleeding too much, but I haven't the strength to stop it. If only that-"

The door burst open and the apprentice who had originally been sent away stumbled in, a large jar cradled in one arm as he pulled a small bag from his belt.

"Th-the honey and... ci-cinammon, My Lord," he offered the items, collapsing on a bench once they left his possession.

Gaius tore the protective canvas covering from the pot, used a spoon to scoop out a generous amount, and sprinkled it with cinnamon. Sitting by his ward he reached forward to gently slap that thin face.

"You must wake, m'boy," he said worriedly as the younger barely stirred.

Glad there was once more something he could do Arthur leapt forward to take over, shaking his friend and calling out.

"Merlin; rise and shine, you idiot."

The warlock groaned and his eyes opened slightly, though he was clearly far from alert.

"I need you to eat this, Merlin," Gaius leaned forward, guiding the spoon while Arthur propped up the former servant's head and neck. Honey mixture now safely sliding down his ward's throat, the physician turned back to the bandages that had since been soaked through.

"Tell me what you've done so far," he said, cutting off the stained cloth before re-cleaning the wounds and applying honey.

Now understanding that nothing he said would be received well, Holbert cowered further before opening his mouth to respond.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Ta-da! New chapter! Sorry about slacking on the review replies last chapter, guys, I got distracted. (My phone died, Merlin and Freya had twins, that sort of thing)  
Anyway- Arthur _and_ a few answers!

* * *

Arthur sank onto a stool, body losing strength in the wake of his anger as the tide of fear and concern rose to swallow him whole. He had been able to avoid thinking thus far by focusing on what needed to be done; building up the fire, working an undergarment over Merlin's hips, and draping him with a blanket; but he had no skills to assist now and the medical discussion was far beyond his comprehension.

Merlin had almost died, suffering among strangers- the thought that he still might wasn't even allowed to fully form. King though he was, Arthur had been nearly useless.

Tears pricked at his eyes and he tore his gaze from his friend's nigh-motionless form, lightly resting one hand atop the blanket in a subconscious need to feel the heartbeat and breaths beneath. He required a distraction, but there was nothing aside from the physicians' discussion. It would have to do.

"-no poison so there was nothing left but the illness to explain his condition."

Gaius' frown had deepened, apparently dissatisfied with Holbert's conclusion, but he made no comment and the man continued.

"We were uncertain of his indications so we only performed a light bleeding with leeches on his temples to treat the fever. Fortunately he woke before further bloodletting was necessary and we were able to extract his birth date. Our calculations revealed today to be ideal for his bleeding, but it was clear he could not wait that long so we used the cups on him."

"With overmuch fire, looks like..." Gaius grumbled.

"What?" Arthur had no idea what 'using the cups' meant, but he certainly didn't like the idea of fire being involved.

Holbert was about to answer, but Gaius cut him off.

"It is a technique called 'fire cupping', Sire. A flame is used to create a vacuum inside a cup which is then applied to the patient- usually on the back and neck. In this particular case they did it twice- cutting the flesh as you have seen in between."

The monarch didn't know what a 'vacuum' was, but he wasn't about to reveal his ignorance.

"And this is a legitimate medical procedure?"

Once more Holbert was made to bite his tongue as the elder responded, "There is no scientific proof that it is beneficial, but many ask for the treatment. It is not something that should be done without consent as it can cause great discomfort- depending upon the patient and the skill of the practitioner."

An image of the bruises and burns on Merlin's back was pushed aside as Arthur focused more fully on the conversation, nodding to indicate his understanding. Holbert continued.

"Well, that improved his fever for a short time but it quickly rose once more so we called the chirurgeon to-"

"You _what?_" Arthur wasn't certain if it was Gaius or himself who had shouted- possibly both- but the two men had advanced on Holbert, the king's hand automatically going to his sword.

Even worse than this charlatan, chirurgeons were little more than barbers who also happened to cut flesh. They were often untrained, their methods rough and dangerous; surviving their 'help' was a miracle.

Holbert shrunk back even further, "W-we called the chirurgeon to operate on his liver, b-but m'lord's escort would not permit us to perform the procedure."

"A lucky thing as you likely would have killed him," Gaius turned back to his surrogate son, brushing sweaty hair back from his pallid face.

"I assure you we would have-"

"Continue your tale," Arthur snapped, returning to his stool and clenching the pommel of his sword tightly with one hand while the other gripped Merlin's fingers, still cold from lack of blood.

"After that there was little we could do until today when we performed the recommended bloodletting."

"And my knights allowed this?" Young as they had been, the monarch rather doubted they would have let these three do anything so drastic to their charge- particularly after preventing the chirurgeon's involvement.

Holbert squirmed, "Lord Faltare sent them out to hunt- they will not return until evening."

"And did you, perhaps, request their absence?"

At this the physician turned pleading eyes on his sovereign, arms spread in supplication. "You must understand, Sire- I only want what is best for my patient! A fever such as this indicates an excess of the sanguine humour and it can only be resolved by removing it! You heard him when you came in- he was feeling better!"

"A foolish misconception. He was merely delirious from the blood loss. That 'happy' feeling is the last stage before unconsciousness and death," Gaius' growled response had Arthur staring at his friend once more, needing the reassurance of the blanket's slight rise and fall. He hadn't realized it had been quite _that_ close.

"Some patients die, yes, but that is only the weak or elderly. I am certain Lord Merlin would have been fine."

Arthur stared at the man, uncertain if he was being honest or was simply trying to hide his guilt. He himself was no man of medicine, but it was clear there was more afflicting Merlin than a simple cold- even taking his subsequent maltreatment into consideration. Surely he would have used his magic, else- perhaps even called the dragon. Was Holbert involved? Lord Faltare? He sighed, rising to his feet. This was a tangle, and it was time for him to start pulling it apart.

"Have you any more need of this man, Gaius?"

The elder had been checking his ward, pinching one arm gently and watching as the skin slowly returned to normal.  
"Have you not been keeping him hydrated? He is in great need of water to replace all the fluid he has lost."

"Water?" The man seemed scandalized. "I would never give a noble such poor provender. He has received as much wine as he could drink each time he has woken."

Gaius kneaded his forehead, clearly exasperated.  
"I think it is best if you removed him, Sire, before I do something regrettable."

Arthur rose and called two of his own escort in from the corridor.

"Take this man and his assistant," the youth hiding in the corner, probably hoping he had been forgotten, squeaked at the attention, "and confine them until this can be sorted." He lowered his voice, "Do not mistreat them, but there is no need to make them particularly comfortable."

The pair nodded, taking charge of their prisoners.

It was then that the second assistant returned, hesitant to enter when he saw what was going on.

"Come in and give those to Gaius- you will be aiding him for the foreseeable future. However, you are not to leave this room without one of my men to accompany you. Understood?"

The young man nodded, quickly crossing the room to surrender the items he'd obtained from the kitchens.

"Right," he took one last glance at Merlin before exiting, kingly facade firmly in place. "Time to get some answers."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: What's this? Another chapter? Why yes, it is :) Quite short this time, but I don't feel bad about that at all ^_~

* * *

Someone was slapping his face in a dreadfully inconsiderate manner, waking the invalid from his rest.

"I'm sorry, Merlin, but you need to drink."

_Drink? No; no more of that wine._ He turned his head, lips stubbornly closed.

"_Mer_lin."

The familiar authority and disapproval in the tone made his eyes pop open. _Gaius._ _When did he get here? Wait- was he here before? _His memories were jumbled and confused. He _thought_ he remembered Arthur's presence, but then he also had a vague recollection of Balinor hovering over him.

"Drink it, my boy."

Right. He opened his mouth obediently and an odd syrup slithered across his sickness-dulled tongue. The sweetness of elderberry jam was there, but also hints of one or two other things he couldn't fully discern at the moment.

"One more time," the physician coaxed, another spoon spilling liquid past his lips.

_Ugh_. The garlic and oil were bearable, but the vinegar that came along with them was revolting.  
_Why couldn't he give me _this_ one first?_

"And some water, then you can go back to sleep."

Sleep? Is that what he'd been doing? Well, he rather doubted he'd be able to now that he was feeling the cold and pain his body had been trying to tell him about since he'd awoken. His limbs felt heavy and a horrid feeling of having been drained stole over him. Probably literally, if his fevered memories of leeches and flashing knives could be trusted.

Another coughing fit delayed the water, which then felt almost painfully cold yet oddly soothing as it went down.

Gnarled fingers carded through his hair and he leaned into the comforting touch without noticing.  
"Rest now; I'll be here when you wake."

Speech was a bit more than he could manage, so a pained whimper was all the response he gave.

"Oh, I'm sorry; of course you would- I'll be back shortly, m'boy."

The creaking of a stool and old bones preceded the clinking of bottles- and when had he closed his eyes? Nevermind, it was fine this way.

"Here, this will help."

The minty flavor of Gaius' least disgusting pain potion washed away the acidic aftertaste- though the meeting of the two had been decidedly less than pleasant- and a few moments of quiet crooning by his mentor saw the warlock falling into a healing sleep.

* * *

Seeing his ward was secure in the land of dreams he turned to Holbert's assistant, allowing the young man to finish catching his breath before interrogating him.

"Do you have _any_ herb knowledge at all?" He tried not to be too rough on the lad. After all, it wasn't _his_ fault his teacher was a complete buffoon.

"Y-yes, sir. I was 'prentice to a village healer afore coming 'ere."

The old man gave an internal sigh of relief.  
"I need you to go out and collect some for me. What you've brought from the kitchen was good for the moment, but better can be found now that we have the time."

The boy nodded, listening attentively.

"You- what is your name, lad?"

"Ostley, sir."

"Ostley; take a knight and search for dandelions, stinging nettles, and linden. If you can't find the nettles or dandelions yarrow will do but it will raise his fever so best to find the others if you can. Do you know these plants?"

"All but the linden, sir."

"Ah," Gaius moved to the writing desk, shoving star charts onto the floor to reveal a blank parchment before dipping the quill in ink and drawing a simple outline on the page. "The leaves are serrated, see? They have soft white hairs on the underside, especially along the veins. The bark is dark grey, not particularly rough or smooth. Do you think you can find it from this?"

"Yes, sir," he took the illustration and a basket, pausing by the door. "I'll be quick."

Gaius nodded and Ostley was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: The story is fighting me right now so... micro chapter -_-. I'll try to have another up soon to compensate ^_~

* * *

Arthur stared across the table at Lord Faltare. He had told much the same tale as Holbert, though with an emphasis on what had happened at the feast and little of what had occurred afterward.

"So you admit to having sent my men away."

The lord frowned, "Yes, Sire- but you must understand, they are not learned men. They cannot see that a difficult illness sometimes requires extreme measures to fight it off."

The king stood abruptly, struggling to contain his anger over those 'extreme measures'. He had to cool off for a bit before deciding what to do with the noble. It didn't seem as if the man had had any ill intent toward Merlin, but that didn't mean he should get away with such negligence. Whatever had started all this it was clear Faltare had failed in at least one of his duties as host.

"I will give you my judgment in the morning. For now, please remain in these quarters. My men will see to your needs," he nodded at the knights he had assigned, turning to leave.

"Judgment? My lord, I-"

An upraised hand stopped whatever protest the man was about to make.

"My Court Warlock was nearly killed while under your roof. Do not think I can simply ignore that."

The nobleman saw only a brief glimpse of the emotions beneath his sovereign's steely gaze, but it shook him to the core.

* * *

Leaning against the wall outside the infirmary, Arthur rubbed his forehead. How could he judge these men fairly? He had yet to speak to Holbert, and he doubted he would be able to any time soon without blood being spilled.

Meanwhile, however, there were further things to investigate.

"Sir Kerril," the knight came to attention, "I need you to find out who was serving Merlin during the feast when he collapsed. Take two men with you and question anyone who may know _anything_ about what is going on here."

Kerril nodded and set off immediately to perform his duty.

The king sighed. He already had men surreptitiously searching for other people who had been 'treated' by Holbert; attempting to discover if this was his usual behavior.

He pushed away from the stone and braced himself for the sight of his friend, helpless and suffering, before opening the door and moving to stand beside a solemn Gaius.

"How is he?" He had a feeling he didn't want to hear the answer, but the air had been too oppressive with nothing to fill it but Merlin's congested breaths.

"Not well, I'm afraid."

"Gaius?" It had seemed as if the man wanted to say more, but instead he had interlaced his fingers and hunched over.

"I don't know what's wrong," the physician admitted. "His body is reacting as if he has been poisoned, but a spell revealed no unusual substances in him. Still, the garlic and marjoram he took should act against any toxins and purify the blood as well as treating his cold. I sent young Ostley out for more potent herbs that will speed up the process."

"Ostley?"

"The assistant."

"Ah."

Silence stretched out once more as Arthur sat on Merlin's other side, mirroring Gaius' earlier stance by folding his hands and resting his face on them.

_What happened to you, Merlin?_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: 100+ reviews! :D Thanks, guys! Massive hugs to all so-inclined.  
And now, the moment you've (more or less) all been waiting for!

* * *

Ostley stumbled into the room with basket upheld, his faint air of victory quickly extinguished by the heavy atmosphere.  
"Ah, sir? I found everything you asked for. There weren't many dandelions, but I got plenty of linden bark and yarrow, oh- and the nettles."

Gaius looked into the basket, face falling as his eyes landed upon the last plant.

"What is it?" The assistant asked nervously.

"I'm sorry- I should have told you to bring the whole nettle plant... but it's alright, this can still be useful."

"No, I can go back and-"

"It is already dark outside. If needed the roots can be gathered tomorrow. Now come, help me prepare these."

Arthur watched as water was boiled, leaves were plucked, and flowers were crushed; praying it would result in a miraculous recovery for the skinny man shivering on the bed in front of him. The king added another blanket, though Merlin's back remained bare in preparation for treatment.

Pouring the hot water into a mug of herbs and leaving it to steep, Gaius pulled an odd spiky plant from his kit and split one of the shoots in half before scooping the gelatinous insides out and adding them to a bowl of green paste- the nettles, if he remembered correctly. Grabbing a wad of bandages, he shuffled back over to the cot and began lightly spreading it over the cuts and burns

The monarch wanted to offer his help, but couldn't bear the thought of being the one causing Merlin's reflexive twitches and whimpers of discomfort. Instead he reclaimed the warlock' hand, pleased to find it only slightly cooler than his own.

Once the salve was applied, Arthur dutifully lifted his friend so Gaius could wrap the linen 'round. As he did so he noticed the younger man's eyes had cracked open to gaze blearily about.

"Merlin? Merlin, I'm sorry, but I have something more for you to drink."

A grunt was the only reply, but pale lips opened obligingly when the warm cup appeared under his nose.

"There you are, drink it all... that's my boy," Gaius continued muttering until the brew was all gone and Merlin had drooped in Arthur's grasp. "Lay him on his side, if you would, Sire."

The physician nodded in satisfaction as the king settled his friend back under the covers.  
"We'll have to keep an eye on him- that decoction will encourage his body to rid itself of any toxins, but he likely will not wake enough to do it himself."

"What do you mean?" Arthur inquired, slightly disgusted at what Gaius might be implying.

"His urine production will increase so he will require assistance to rid himself of it- and we will also need to make him drink as much as we can."

The king's nose wrinkled at the thought, but if that's all he could do to help...

"Ostley- fetch some more water from the well. And order dinner for His Majesty."

"That's not necessary, Gaius, I-"

"Nonsense. It's been a long day after a rough journey. You need sustenance and rest."

"But you'll need my help to-"

"If there is anything Ostley cannot do there is a group of young knights outside eager to assist. It will take some time for the herbs to act regardless. Now, no arguments- you will eat and you will sleep."

Arthur wanted to protest further- he was _king_ for goodness' sake- but that eyebrow was nearly impossible to defy. "Fine," he huffed, absently smoothing Merlin's hair back and replacing the wet cloth that had fallen aside in all the activity.

It wasn't long before a meal was delivered and the royal ate it all, unable to resist after the first bite. He put off indulging in the wine knowing it, combined with the heat of the space, would send him right to sleep.

Apparently the same thought had occurred to Gaius.  
"Drink the wine, Sire."

Grumbling to himself, Arthur did so- and promptly spit it back out.  
"What is this?" He asked angrily. Were they trying to poison him now as well?

The servant who had brought the meal leapt forward from his spot against the wall, taking the goblet and wiping the liquid from the floor.

"I'm so sorry, M'lord. I brought you the house wine by mistake- I'll fix it right away," the scrawny boy rushed to escape, but was stopped by a firm arm across his chest.

"_What_ is in this wine?"

The warrior's tone held such cold fury the boy was too afraid to answer and Gaius stepped in to sniff at the beverage, carefully placing a drop on his own tongue before also spitting it out.

"Betony!" He announced, clearly horrified as he turned to look upon his ward.

"What is that? Gaius?" The king felt panic begin to eat its way into his brain at the elder's reaction.

The physician faced the room's sole bookshelf, growling in frustration when all he found were irrelevant texts.

"Betony is a plant lauded for its efficacy against sorcery."

Arthur blinked. How had he never heard of this before? How had his father not planted it everywhere?  
"So what does that mean, exactly?" His eyes were also now pinned on Merlin's pallid form.

"If a normal sorcerer were to be exposed to it he would become unable to perform magic until it was removed, but Merlin... Merlin _is_ magic. If they gave him this wine... it is his very _being_ under attack."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: You guys are so awesome, I just want to bake you all a cake :D

Just about gave myself a heart attack today, thinking I had majorly messed something up earlier, but it's okay- you can all relax, everything is alright ^_~

Oh! I also wrote a one shot, "Between Battles", and started a collection, "Trials, Travails, and Misadventures". You should all go check those out *NotSubtleAtAllHint*

Warning: Things get a bit... messy... this chapter. I kept it low-key, but this probably isn't a chapter you want to be reading while munching on a snack.

* * *

For a moment it was as if his own heart had stopped and the space around him was squeezing inward, vision focusing solely on Merlin's pinched expression as he mumbled in his sleep. Then the world snapped back into place and he took a deep breath.

"What do we do?"

Gaius, looking more lost than Arthur had ever before seen him, lowered his head into withered hands.

"There isn't much more we _can_ do... though perhaps more extreme measures are in order..."

"Gaius?"

The physician fixed his eyes on a bundle of mustard hanging by the hearth.

"This is not going to be pleasant for any of us."

* * *

Ostley, having returned with two buckets of water (plus the four his escorts carried), was promptly sent running after another tub- the one previously in the chambers having been removed soon after Arthur's arrival.

An additional servant was called to retrieve pillows and blankets as Gaius explained to the king what was going to happen and what needed to be done, his audience's look of revulsion growing by the second.

"It is likely his body has already absorbed a great deal of betony, but any we can rid him of will only help. The problem will be keeping him from drying out. This should not last long, but it will still tax his waning energy."

Arthur nodded, then stripped off his coat and helped Gaius in preparing the mustard and dandelion root, sweat beading on his own forehead in the heat of the freshly-stoked fire.

Once the requested items arrived everyone set to work; chamber pot and bucket first, then pillows and blankets going into the tub along with Merlin to prop him up and make him as comfortable as possible before the physician waved smelling salts below his ward's nose.

The warlock jerked awake, wincing and coughing. "Wha-? Gaius, wha's happening?" He slurred, vaguely noting that he was once more naked in a tub.

"I have some mustard water and dandelion root tea- which do you want first?"

Merlin's gaze turned pleading, "Neither?"

Gaius gave him a pitying look.

"Guess it better be the mustard then- but don't let Arthur in. I don't want him to see me like this," he sighed, coughing a bit more before opening his mouth to accept the warm liquid.

The monarch kept silent as he stood behind the younger man, ready to soothe and support him despite his wishes.

The acrid concoction did its work within seconds, Arthur helping the thin man to lean over the bucket as he heaved, bringing up what little he had in his stomach- mostly remains of the medicines Gaius had fed him thus far. Once the outflow had ceased, the king pulled him upright.

"Done?" Gaius inquired gently.

"Think so," he nodded, "better get this over with."

The dandelion took longer to act, during which time Ostley got as much water into the man as possible while Arthur bathed his fiery brow and draped a cool cloth over his lap- though it had to be removed twice as the trio helped Merlin relieve his bladder of worryingly dark urine.

Then their patient groaned, weakly clutching his stomach as his bowels evacuated though, once again, there was little to eject.

Arthur carded his fingers through the younger man's hair, trying to offer what solace he could with soft murmurs in the face of his friend's misery.

"You're- not supposed to be here," Merlin croaked.

"And yet I have been the whole time- took you long enough to notice."

The warlock grunted, turning his head away from the cup Ostley was offering, "No more for now- I think I may throw up again else."

A few more moments passed before the purging was judged complete and Merlin went limp in the king's arms- the only things stopping him from landing in his own filth.

"Ar-thur," he panted, "thank... you."

"Shut up, idiot," the monarch said fondly. "Let's get you cleaned and back in bed."

The warlock opened his mouth to protest, and Arthur was certain he was blushing on top of the fever red that had blossomed on his cheeks, but his limited strength had been spent and he wound up falling asleep before the words passed his lips.

Once the cleaning had been completed and Ostley helped Arthur lift Merlin from the tub Gaius let out a sharp curse, startling the king.

"What is it?" Then he saw- spots of red beginning to show through the bandages around his friend's knees- and added his own expletives.

The physician carefully lifted an edge of the linen wrapping, frowning at what he saw.

"I'll have to use the yarrow."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Another chapter, because I love you all so much ^_~

* * *

Gaius stared at the blood, castigating himself internally. Why hadn't he asked for comfrey? The wounds would have been sealed almost immediately! Though there was no guarantee they wouldn't have broken open just as well with the way they'd been moving Merlin about... _No time for regrets now. Get to work._

"I'll have to use the yarrow."

"What? But didn't you say that would raise his fever?"

The two elder men turned to the youngest, having half-forgotten his presence despite his active role in the proceedings.

"Gaius, is this true?"

"Yes, his temperature will worsen- but this will help him sweat out the fever. Yarrow has many beneficial traits that will aid Merlin right now."

The king nodded slowly, trusting his physician's word.  
"What do I do?"

"_You_, Sire, get that rest I recommended earlier. Your help has been invaluable, but there is nothing to be done yet tonight that cannot be done by a servant just as well as yourself. You will need to have your wits about you to discover what has happened here."

Arthur scowled at the reminder.  
"Do you think they did it on purpose?"

"Well, I hardly met Lord Faltare, but Holbert... I'm not really certain. Ironically enough, his initial blood-letting probably _did_ help Merlin- but then he made everything worse by giving him more of that _blasted_ wine," white hair shook along with the elder's head. "As much as I dislike the man and his methods I cannot say whether or not he had any ill intent."

The monarch was disappointed, but lowered his head in acceptance.  
"Right. I'll be going, then. You'll send word if-"

"I will keep you informed, Sire."

"Good," Arthur took one last look at his best friend before exiting the infirmary, stopping to consult the knights posted there. "Has there been word from Sir Kerrill- and has Merlin's escort returned?"

"Yes, Sire. Sir Kerrill is waiting outside your chambers to report. Lord Merlin's escort returned just before sundown and joined the investigation efforts."

More likely they'd been trying to avoid his disapproval.

"Should they return, instruct them to report to Kerrill before retiring for the evening."

The knight bowed his understanding as Arthur turned away, marching down the corridor with purpose in his step.

Kerrill caught sight of him as soon as he rounded the corner a short ways from the guest quarters and called out. Arthur dismissed the servant who had led him there, beckoning his subordinate through the door.

"Come inside and I'll hear your report."

Arthur settled into a chair, not bothering to give Kerrill leave to sit- the knight was even more strict about propriety than Leon. Well, he'd grow out of that- probably.

"So? What did you learn?"

"The staff all tell the same story, Sire. The food was prepared and tasted in the kitchens before being delivered to the feast. The wine comes from casks in the cellar and is produced less than a league from here in the family's vineyard using a special recipe that includes a plant called betony. Supposedly it has some health benefits."

The king's expression hardened, causing Kerrill to hesitate, but he gestured for the knight to continue.

"It seems Lord Faltare has a habit of serving this wine to guests, knowing most will find the taste unpalatable. A second pitcher of wine was prepared for Lord Merlin holding a traditional vintage should he prove unable to stomach the first. Both were tasted before being brought to the feast hall. By all accounts Lord Merlin did not like the house wine, but he continued to drink it so the other was not offered. After he had taken several mouthfuls, however, he succumbed to a coughing fit and fell unconscious shortly thereafter. Those questioned knew little of what happened after that point as the physician has not had any aid but that of his assistants aside from occasional deliveries of water and other simple duties."

The monarch nodded distractedly. "Thank you, Sir Kerrill. You may retire for the evening."

"Sire," the knight bowed and took his leave.

Arthur moved to the wash basin and splashed his face with the cool water, roughly scrubbing it dry so his face was left pink.

_So the wine is served to everyone..._

It seemed more information only bred more uncertainty.

A soft knock sounded.  
"Enter!"

Sir Moran, part of the royal escort and also the knight Arthur had put in charge of investigating Holbert, closed the door behind him and bowed.

"Sire."

"Moran," he greeted, "report."

The knights' findings had been limited. It seems Holbert rarely treats patients outside the nobility as he demands exorbitant payment from all but his patron. Lord Faltare's family had had nothing but good things to say about the man, despite his frequent usage of leeches and treatments that sounded bizarre and questionable to Arthur's ears. All in all it sounded as if Holbert had treated Merlin the same as anyone else, if not better- in his own twisted way of doing things.

After Moran left the king stared into the fireplace, watching the logs slowly burn down into nothing.

What was he going to do?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Now I'm just messing with you.

* * *

There weren't many things more alarming to wake up to than the chill of steel pressed against one's throat, but it was slightly better than never waking up at all.

He froze, trying to maintain the appearance of sleep, but it was for naught.

"I know you're awake, _scum_."

"What do you want?"

The curtains were still blocking out any light; he couldn't identify his attacker- what had happened to the guards on the door?

"I want to make you_ pay._"

His blood ran cold at the murderous tone.  
"Why? What have I done? I'm sure we can-"

"No more talking!" The blade bit into his skin, sending a trickle of blood down his neck.

"It's your fault he's dead."

_No.._.  
"Who is dead?"

"_Merlin._"

* * *

He must have dozed off at some point, for morning found him jerking awake, body detecting the sudden shift in equilibrium as he nearly tumbled out of the chair. The servant bearing his breakfast must have been waiting for some sign of life from inside as a knock came right on the heels of the chair scraping against stone flooring.

"Enter!" It came out as more of a growl than an invitation, but he didn't particularly care.

Seeing that the king was already dressed, the young boy made himself scarce after setting the food on the table and pouring a generous portion of mead. He ignored both.

Maybe it was the lack of proper sleep, maybe it was the thought of his best friend slowly dying in that dreadful infirmary- either way the monarch had decided on a course that may gently be described as 'rash'.

Outside his door he wavered for only a moment before heading toward Lord Faltare's apartments.

If the noble's haggard appearance was anything to go by, Faltare had slept even more poorly than the king himself.

_Good._

Still, he_ was_ well and truly asleep- something Arthur had not achieved the previous night.

Drawing his dagger, the king enacted his plan before his conscience- which often sounded entirely too much like a certain idiot- convinced him this was entirely too foolish.

"I know you're awake, _scum_."

* * *

"L-lord Merlin is _dead?_" All the color drained from Faltare's face. He certainly _looked_ shocked, perhaps even saddened- but that may have been simple worry for his own prospects.

"Thanks to your poison," Arthur spat, raising the dagger's point to tap against the nobleman's chin, making him flinch back violently.

"Poison? No! I would never!"

"It was your wine- served at your behest," he let more of the anger he had repressed so carefully up to this point seep into his tone. Faltare seemed close to breaking; eyes wide and forehead sweaty. _Just a bit more..._

"My Lord, everyone drank that wine! If there had been anything-"

"_Betony_."

"What?"

"The _betony_. It killed his magic- killed _him_," the break in his voice at the end came entirely too easily.

He had been wrong- not quite all of the color had left the man earlier. Now his very _presence_ seemed to fade as he quailed.

"I _swear_ to you, My Lord- I had _no idea_ it would have that effect."

"But you expected it to take his magic, didn't you? That's why you give it to everyone- so you need never fear the _evils_ of sorcery," he pulled back slightly, metal no longer putting a divot in the other man's nearly-grey flesh. "I was a fool to think you were any different from your ancestors."

"No, Sire!" Faltare sat up quickly and Arthur had to jerk his hand aside to avoid slitting the man's throat as he prostrated himself. "No! I _never_ wanted this- I was trying to bring magic back to my holdings- that is why I asked for Lord Merlin's help! I wanted to learn more about the laws and enlist his aid in finding sorcerers who would be willing to live here! Please, I will accept any punishment for my negligence, but do not put this upon my family- I _beg_ of you!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed.  
"So why the betony, then- if you didn't know its affect?"

"My great great grandfather... he believed it prevented drunkenness."

"Your great great grandfather. The one who used to keep a unit of witchfinders under his employ? The one who made a name for your family as the greatest enemies of magic before the purge began?"

"Ah..." the lord grew quiet, then groaned softly, raising shaky hands to cover his face.

"What is it?" Arthur demanded; not able to afford the softness that threatened to creep into his voice, the doubt that was stealing into his thoughts.

"There is a family adage... 'Share the wine, shackle the sorcerer'. I had always assumed it meant you should make others beholden to you by being hospitable, but..."

The king was flabbergasted. Was Faltare _really_ that naïve?  
He just wanted to bury his face in his hands and laugh- or cry... maybe both.

"You-" a knock at the door made him sigh. "This had better be important!"

"Gaius sent me to fetch you, Sire."

The monarch straightened and sheathed his dagger, pinning Faltare with a sharp gaze.  
"We'll continue this later."

The nobleman nodded, speechless and frightened, still cowering in his bedclothes.

Arthur gave him one last look, then swept out on his way to Merlin's side.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur burst into the infirmary, out of breath after his mad dash through the corridors. Gaius was holding down a weakly-struggling Merlin.

"What's happening?" He inquired, rushing forth to pin Merlin to the bed.

"His fever is causing him to hallucinate. He's been calling for you, Sire."

And he could hear that now- the warlock's raspy cries of "Arthur!"

"I'm right here, Merlin. It's alright- _I'm _alright. You're safe now."  
The king continued murmuring soothing words to his friend as the man's thrashing lessened. He stared into those fever-bright eyes until they cleared, actually _seeing_ him for the first time.

"Arthur?"

"That's me," the monarch gave a wan smile.

"You're really... purple," and with that observation the invalid fell asleep.

"Gaius?" He only now realized the physician had been working beside him the entire time, bathing Merlin with cooling cloths.

"His fever has broken, Sire. It seems the worst may be over."

Arthur sighed with relief, bending over to touch his forehead to Merlin's, gathering himself.  
"You're never leaving my side again, idiot," he breathed into the other man's over-large ear before standing.

"In that case, I-"

Harsh coughing interrupted his announcement and he hastened to help Gaius turn Merlin back onto his side, the physician covering his ward's mouth with a rag. It didn't escape the monarch's notice that the rag came away red.

"What's the meaning of this, Gaius?"

The old man twitched in surprise, but answered readily enough.  
"The frequent coughing has damaged his throat, My Lord. It is superficial; nothing to worry about."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, staring at the elder in suspicion for a moment before relenting in the face of the man's calm countenance.

"If you're certain."

"You have my word there is nothing to concern yourself with."

"I'm always concerned about him- you know that." Gaius' fond smile prompted further reply. "It is a king's duty to ensure the physically and mentally infirm are taken care of, after all."

That said, the forced arrogance melted from his features to be replaced with trepidation.  
"Do you... do you think you could question Holbert for me? I'm afraid the medical details are outside of my realm of expertise." _And I can't be certain I wouldn't murder him on sight. _"Once Merlin is well enough, of course."

The old man's face was wooden and he remained silent for a span, eventually speaking as if the words were being dragged from him.

"I... can do so as soon as Ostley awakes from his rest. Merlin needs only basic observation now, with water should he wake and herbal teas every few hours," he blew out a gust of air. "There will be a guard present?"

"Of course, I would never risk your safety, Gaius."

_It's _his_ safety I'm more concerned about..._  
The physician nodded. "What would you like me to find out?"

* * *

Gaius hesitated outside the door where the man who called himself 'physician' was contained, tamping down his anger and trying to focus on what needed to be done.

He had successfully hidden it from Arthur, but Merlin had suffered organ damage and was bleeding internally- though that had mostly stopped thanks to the yarrow. He had tried casting another healing spell this morning and it had had minimal effect- but that was better than none. At least it showed that the betony was being driven out. Still, it was likely his boy would need to call the dragon to fully heal him once he was able.

The king had thoroughly instructed him on what to ask Holbert, seeking to find out if he knew Faltare was hoping to entice sorcerers into living and working on his lands (a potential threat to Holbert's livelihood) as well as if or why the man's herb knowledge was really so limited as it seemed (among other inquiries).

Gaius sighed, then nodded to the guard who pushed the door open and entered before him.

This was going to be challenging.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Some of you may consider this a cop-out, and I did feel guilty that I was planning to do it this way as I was reading your reviews, but I did it regardless ;p  
Originally, Holbert was going to turn into a sympathetic character, but after you all took such joy in hating him I couldn't go all the way with it.

* * *

Arthur sighed, absently combing his fingers through Merlin's hair as he slept. The younger man had woken earlier and been unable to sleep due to the pain, prompting Gaius to dose him with a sleeping draught. At least now his face was peaceful, even if his muscles seemed rather tense under the blankets and bandages.

Ostley bustled about nearby, staying out of sight of the king by preparing herbs for the teas keeping the warlock on the mend.

Gaius should be back at any moment and he both was and was not looking forward to his findings.

As if the mere thought had summoned him the physician entered the chambers, the creak of the door being the only sound he made.

"Ostley, please collect some ginger, valerian, and devil's claw- the root, please," the elder handed over a small purse, "go to market for whatever you can't find in the kitchens or very nearby. Better to be quick than save some coin."

The boy nodded, once again grabbing a basket and heading off with a knight escort.

Silence reigned for a moment before the scrape of a stool startled Arthur from his intense staring match with Gaius' robe. He cleared his throat, hesitant to find out the cause of the physician's odd air.

"So... what did you discover?"

"Well, first- the other assistant is clear from guilt in this. He hasn't the intelligence to do anything other than what he is told directly. You should probably let him out soon, Sire; he doesn't seem to do too well in confinement."

"You're certain he wasn't involved? Past the obvious, of course."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Very well," he called in a guard and instructed him to liberate the youth, but keep an eye on him.  
"And Holbert?"

Gaius sighed. "That... is a rather more complex matter. It seems that he is not, in fact, a physician."

The king scoffed, "Well we both knew that already."

"Yes, but it turns out he hasn't even received any training."

"What?" Arthur was flabbergasted. "Why- how was he even hired?"

"It seems he forged a letter from a previous employer and Faltare never validated his claims."

He could do nothing but shake his head, resting his forehead against the heel of one hand. Another argument for Faltare's naiveté.  
"So who is he, then? Why the ruse?"

"He is an astronomer. He lost a prestigious position in the Mercian court to a healer who was also familiar with the stars- the sort of healer he pretends to be now. He thought by doing a bit of reading he could be as good as any physician, could gain more wealth and influence. He started in Mercia, but left after an... incident."

Arthur didn't like that tone at all. "And what was this incident?"

"Not long after beginning his self-training... he killed a patient."

The monarch was as a stone, waiting for Gaius to continue.

"Only having a few limited illustrations to go by, he gave a patient what he thought to be a variety of parsley... it was actually hemlock."

The king's gasp only stalled the telling for a moment.

"If he had been trained, that would have been one of the first plants he learned to discern- it is easily mistaken for a beneficial plant. That aside, he couldn't stay in that place afterward. He covered his error as best he could and moved here, resolving to never again use herbs aside from a few easily recognized plants commonly employed in the balancing of humours," Gaius waved to the meager bundles hanging on the wall."

"He's a murderer, Gaius."

"If it makes any difference, he is very contrite about that."

"He is a _murderer_. He willfully takes his patient's lives into his hands with none of the training or knowledge required to heal them properly! Are you defending him?"

"No, Sire. I simply- he did not do this on purpose. When I confronted him about the betony... he is beside himself."

Arthur stared at the elder, floored by this change in attitude toward Holbert.  
Then he noticed that Gaius was favoring one hand.  
"Gaius, did you-?"

"So what will you do with him, Sire?" The physician interrupted, overly-innocent expression firmly in place.

The sovereign sank back onto his stool.

"I don't know. I just don't know, Gaius." He glanced over to Merlin, helpless. "It's looking more and more as if this whole thing was just an accident. A pointless, stupid accident that nearly killed Merlin. What am I supposed to do about this?"

_Tell me, Merlin. What do I do?_


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Let's all say it together. "Poor Merlin." Now we've got that out of the way ;p  
A short bridge chapter; hopefully I'll have the next written later today. My plot bunnies are currently engaged in all-out war, the original ones fighting against those bred by the changes I made in Holbert's past to allow you all to continue hating him ;p Until conflicts are resolved writing is at a standstill *heavy sigh*. Well, for better or worse the next chapter or two shall decide quite a bit. Cheers! *wearily heads back to the fray*

* * *

_Someone's calling me..._ _Arthur..._

Merlin struggled to wake, his body uncomfortably unresponsive. His limbs felt light, yet numb and oddly disconnected from his awareness as if he were floating, unable to sense even the temperature around him.

_At least open your eyes; you can do that._

He struggled against his own powerlessness, managing to gain a tiny window into the outside world. The sight of a wall decorated with knives and astrological paraphernalia reminded him of the situation he was in.

_Well at least nothing hurts right now._

Was he simply too worn-out to feel pain at this point? Well, that wasn't important for the moment- Arthur had need of him. The warlock's eyes drifted about slowly, not catching sight of his target within his limited field of view.

"Merlin? Are you awake?"

His head twitched toward the voice, triggering a weak groan at the ache that asserted itself.

"Gaius-"

"Here, Sire, rub some of this on his forehead."

There was some shuffling and the 'pop' of a bottle being uncorked before gentle fingers traced a soothing figure eight above his brow. It wasn't long before a cooling sensation and the clearing of his congested nose lead him to recognize Gaius' camphor and peppermint-laden tonic oil. He sighed as the headache eased, opening his eyes a bit further.

"There you are," Arthur grinned from above, a smile lightening the worry that creased his face.

"Arthur..." his voice was barely more than a suggestion of words born on an exhale.

"Shhh, don't talk," the king smoothed back his friend's hair before realizing what he was doing and withdrawing his hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You shouldn't talk- but, I'd appreciate it if you would listen?"

It came out as a question, the warrior uncertain if the warlock would even be able to stay awake to hear the request let alone the following petition.

"'course," Merlin responded, never one to heed the royal's commands out of hand.

Arthur sighed heavily, moving from the head to the side of the bed to be directly in Merlin's line of sight and silently begging Gaius to give them some privacy. The physician nodded and left a mug of warm tea for his ward before exiting.

"It's about Holbert..."

The whole story spilled out, not only about Holbert but also Faltare and all of Arthur's uncertainties in the matter. The king absently propped up his former servant and plied him with Gaius' decoction as the tale reached its end.

"What can I do, Merlin; what _should_ I do?"

He knew what he _wanted _to do- send everyone involved to the quarries to live a few years in grueling toil.

"No, Arthur... that's more cruel than simply executing them- you know they wouldn't survive long there."

And he had said that out loud. He huffed, "I know that. So you think I should execute them?" He highly doubted that, but allowed himself to hope. Even _Merlin's_ forgiveness had to have limits, right?

"No, Arthur. You should- should give them a fair... trial... no...s..." the warlock yawned, exhaustion pulling him under before he could fully articulate his counsel. Still, Arthur understood what he was saying- and it came as a relief.

He didn't have to make these choices alone. Who better to judge these men than those effected by their actions? He himself would ultimately pass the sentence, of course, and Faltare would still require special attention, but this would certainly lessen his burden where Holbert was concerned.

"Thank you, Merlin," he whispered, resettling the thin man onto one side before getting up to call Gaius back.

He had work to do.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Well, now it's done. I'm pretty surprised myself. Anyway- results. The younger plot bunnies have emerged victorious and there shall be a sequel to this in the future (hopefully not very soon because I really do have another piece I need to write first- give it another month at least).

ATTENTION: I posted two chapters today. If you have not read another new chapter in the past 24 hours please go back and read 15 before this one. Thank you :)

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Arthur had allowed one day's time for nearby lords to gather for the trial, time he spent watching Merlin sleep.

The warlock had woken a few hours after their discussion, spotting Gaius' injured hand and healing it without thinking. The muddy-brown in his eyes where there should be brilliant gold unsettled the king more than the dead sleep the man had fallen into immediately afterward. Still, a surly Gaius had declared it a good sign that he had been able to use magic at all- let alone succeeding in the healing he so often failed at.

"The betony should be all but gone at this point. Now it's only a matter of building his strength back up," the physician had asserted. "Though it'll take forever if he keeps exhausting himself before I've gotten some food in him," the elder then growled under his breath.

Sirs Kerrill and Moran had faithfully assembled a small group of townsfolk and castle staff to complement the council of nobles who would sit in judgment at the trial- a practice Merlin and Guinevere had talked him into instituting. Arthur watched the two groups take their assigned positions in Faltare's great hall, waiting for the guards to arrive with Holbert. Ostley fidgeted in his place beside the council of commoners, nervous about his future and about speaking in front of so many people. The other assistant- he had never quite managed to catch his name- would have been present to testify, but it seems he'd returned home to Mercia after learning of his master's misdeeds and could not be reached in time.

When Holbert was dragged in, harried and fearful but still with a spark of defiance, Arthur knew it would be a long day.

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"Merlin," he called softly, one hand on his friend's scrawny shoulder. "Time to wake up, idiot."

The warlock let out an unintelligible string of ill-tempered mumbles, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed as he replied.

"What?"

His voice was still rough, but much better than it had been. He'd slept almost uninterrupted for two days after healing his mentor and had yet to hear about the trial and verdict.

"You need to eat and drink. Gaius can't even open the window for fear you'll blow away."

The warlock's lips twitched upward and Arthur knew what was coming. "Well, we can't all have your magnificent bulk, _Sire._"

"I am not _fat, _Merlin."

"Didn't say you were," he answered lightly as Arthur propped him up and began blowing on the steaming bowl of broth. "I can feed myself, you know."

"Is that so? Well, I haven't even seen you lift your own arms since I got here."

"That's an exaggeration." Wasn't it? He actually wasn't certain about that.

The king merely snorted and passed him the spoon.  
"Let's see it then."

Merlin's fingers curled stiffly around the spoon, barely closing enough to prevent it slipping right onto the floor. He concentrated, frowning intensely at the utensil as he raised his arm a few inches off the bed. Gravity seemed to be much more assertive than it normally was and his muscles visibly trembled with the effort of overcoming it.

"That's enough," Arthur sighed, reclaiming the spoon and pushing the former servant's arm down. "You'll never recover if you don't relax and allow other people to take care of you."

When Merlin opened his mouth to retort the king stuffed the first spoonful of liquid in, ignoring the younger man's glare.

"Isn't that what I tell you when-"

"Shut up Merlin." In went another mouthful.

The warlock rolled his eyes but cooperated from then on, obediently downing the whole bowl of thin soup.

"So," he began as Arthur set the dishes aside, "what happened with Holbert and Faltare?"

The king braced his palms against his knees.  
"Holbert has been sent to the quarries."

"What! Arthur, I-"

"It was what the nobles _and_ the commoners decided. Surely he can survive it for a year." Arthur himself didn't seem particularly confident in that, but continued regardless. "He seemed surprised the sentence was so light, in fact."

Merlin frowned, but seemed mollified for the moment.

"Faltare has had his rank lowered."

The warlock's eyes widened in shock. It was almost unheard of to do such a thing.

"His son will still be a count, but he is now a baron."

And that had to hurt. A baron was hardly above a knight, the most petty of landed nobility.

"There will also be a garrison set up here. Officially it is to monitor those coming through from Mercia, but the primary purpose will be to keep an eye on things here."

The monarch stood and paced to the window. "The Faltare vineyard has suffered an unfortunate fire that spread to the surrounding fields, sadly destroying all of their wine stores as well as the betony with which it is made. The casks in the castle cellar appear to have been ruined by rats. It's terrible, but it seems they will be purchasing wine from the capitol for the foreseeable future."

He came back to the cot, gesturing vaguely about the room.

"Ostley has been absolved of guilt and will continue training under Gaius while we are here. I've sent for another healer to replace that charlatan- she should arrive in a few days."

Merlin sighed. It was clear Arthur had wanted to do more, but held back to keep Faltare's people from suffering as a result of their lord's failures.

"You did well, Arthur," he stated, sincerity lighting his eyes and voice. He really was _so_ proud of how far Arthur had come. "Thank you," _for saving me; for being the king I always knew you could be._

The king smiled appreciatively, holding his friend's gaze.

"Thank _you_, Merlin."


End file.
